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"Deeper?" Pascal repeated what the mud people were chattering about. "Sure!"

Cyandine reappeared, this time for more than a split second. Water fell off her form as she solidified into a delicate azure creature, adding to the mud puddle that was forming, but Pascal quickly realized that they might have to excavate the dirt. Perhaps they would need to use Xander's terraforming abilities, or perhaps someone who could punch the ground hard enough to form a crater. (Away from the gateway's rocks, though. She didn't want to risk damaging the magical stones.)

The silver-haired boy. A friend of hers? Many of the assembled newcomers were watching the whole scene, some attempting to intervene, others trying to egg it on whether accidentally or intentionally. The pink cat creature she saw earlier slinked away. Cistina seemed to have her attention on the no-eyed purple winged man. Pascal watched the pink-haired horned girl instead. It was a good call, having Twilight leave her with backup. The grip on her staff tightened when Illidan made a move to slap the boy on the cloud and her attention immediately shifted back to Ayaka to gauge her reaction -- and predictably, the action had drawn her ire. Her nails sparked dangerously as she spoke, igniting a purple flame in her hand.

Pascal had faith in the Gateway's strange decision-making process regarding who was worthy of setting foot on the planet, although, for a split second she wondered if it could have made a mistake. To banish that thought, she reminded herself of Nata's introduction, and how he had eventually warmed up into becoming one of the squad's most reliable juggernauts when it came to sheer power.

She nodded to her summon, Cyandine, and the aqua-haired and fin-eared mermaid transformed into a stream of water just as the horned lady released her fire. Water dashed forth, cutting through the flames burning through the grass, and Cyandine's liquid shadow erupted from below the demon in the form of a geyser before vanishing entirely in a mist of droplets.

Pascal held her staff at eye level, the butt-end pointing towards Ayaka. Her usual smile was gone from her face and her amber eyes were focused and unwavering. "Now," she said, looking down the barrel of her shotstaff to assess her aim. "It would be in everyone's best interest to put all your assumptions aside until we sort this all out."

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It was difficult to tell whether Duke was being serious about not understanding why Jowan was thankful or not. With Duke, it could be either one. Still, he was grateful.

He didn’t want to intrude or ask for more than he needed, but getting cleaned up did sound nice. It had been far too long since he’d had a proper bath, and he was eager to be rid of the grime and dried blood coating his skin. He shook his head to say no, of course he didn’t mind, but Duke already had his back turned to him.

As they walked, Jowan tried to remember who each of the rooms belonged to. “I’ve never had a room of my own,” he admitted. Unless one counted a jail cell, of course, which he didn’t. First had been the apprentice dorms, then had been the servant’s quarters at Redcliffe Castle. Neither had been too bad, at least once he had gotten old enough to leave the dorm with the younger children. He'd never been able to bear the crying.

In all honesty, Duke’s room was less messy than he had expected. The bed was comfortably unmade, and he felt himself relax another fraction. The castle had no Templars to yell at one for leaving a bed unmade. “I should be fine without a healer. It’s not too deep, and I’ve done stitches before.” He left out the circumstances that required him to do stitches on himself.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve never burned anything down,” he said, unable to keep the smile from his voice or face. The banter was familiar, and he felt a twinge of nostalgia in his chest. “Thank you,” he said again before he walked into the bathroom. It was shockingly white- the tiles on the floor, the walls, the fixtures. The sink and bathtub - both made of the same shiny white material - each had metal faucets. Strange. Experimentally, he pushed one of the levers above the sink up, then pushed it back down when water flowed out of the faucet. “Duke?” he called, hoping that Duke hadn’t already left. It was possible that he’d be able to figure things out, but he didn’t want to take any chances. “Could you explain how this all works? It’s a bit different from what I’m used to.”

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Illidan was almost ready to snap completely and let loose with felfire, but was quickly caught off-guard with Ayaka's purple flames. Was this how his life was going to end?

He wasn't prepared for this.

...nor was he prepared to look again and see that he was alive. Completely soaked from horns to hooves, but alive. How on Azeroth had he--?

"Now, it would be in everyone's best interest to put all your assumptions aside until we sort this all out."

Was that Pascal's voice?! She suddenly sounded so... serious. Perhaps picking random fights isn't such a good idea after all... Illidan lowered his Warglaives and backed off, a tense glare on his face - this demon's death wasn't worth coming face-to-face with his own. "...Argus would do better with me alive. But don't think I'll ever like you one bit, demon."

Hibiki and Marie were pretty shocked as well, with the latter having stepped back quite a bit because of the water. Why why why is there so much water involved?! Was this where she was going to be splatted for good?

Hibiki was just relieved that the fighting had stopped. She'd met stubborn people before, but Illidan was in a class all his own... Hoo-boy, this one's going to be a handful. It was nothing she couldn't handle, though, right? If she could convince someone who was literally burning away her memories for the sake of destroying the world to change, then she could definitely convince someone who is half-demon to change, right?

Edited December 11, 2017 by hikarinomemori

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Ayaka's eyes widen as her flame disappears with the falling waters -- her lively fires, extinguished immediately by the tremendous rain, and the demoness feels a chill run down her spine as her gaze spins to her feet, just in time for a geyser of water to sprout from the earth within. Ayaka dances back just quick enough to avoid the blunt of the attack, although she feels the edges of her kimono dampen with the swirling waters, and she catches herself in her fleet by dragging a hand across the earth, digging long tracks into the dirt and grass. Her hair is a blur of pink in her vision, and the water cuts aside to reveal a girl.

A human?

Who dared to challenge her? The thought makes Ayaka bare her teeth, her pointed, black fangs against pale lips, and she straightens with forced grace. The girl levels a staff in her direction, her amber eyes calculating and serious, and Ayaka -- she wants to see the human fall beneath her, refuses to listen to the wills of a girl --

But she falters. Here, she is a vagabond, and this is not her fight.

"No assumptions made," she says, and raises a hand. The fold of her long sleeve covers her mouth, and she laughs -- a light, delicate, and entirely inhuman sound that echoes throughout the air. "You'll have to forgive me for defending myself."

With that, she steps forward, and grimaces when her heels sink into the muddy puddle that remains of where she had once stood.

"Keep talking and I'll attack you," she instructs to Yuki, and then bends down, just slightly. She jumps, casually through the air to land just before where Illidan stands. She pauses for just a second to fix her clothing, and to run an introspective eye over the other ... demon? Ayaka is still not sure exactly what he is, but nevermind -- that is none of her business.

Instead, she extends a hand -- black-tipped, fire-creator -- and smirks, her eyes narrowed. "A truce, then, and a handshake to seal the deal. I suppose you could say the feeling is mutual."

--

[ the wonders of modern technology : duke -- ; ]

There is a certain way by which Jowan speaks -- he is soft-spoken, and polite, but always guarded, as if there is more meaning behind his words than he lets on. It leaves Duke entirely curious for something he will never know, allows a certain sense of wanderlust within the very pieces of hidden secrets he can decipher from behind Jowan's words.

He wants to ask, both after the other's past and his medical expertise, but the look on the other's face stops him from doing so. Perhaps another time, or never at all -- Duke is never one to guess the future, nor is he to ravel poetics about a man he barely knew.

And yet here he was. It is an interesting paradox he has found himself in, entirely composed of Jowan's mysterious thoughts and his own fantasies. The other thanks him once more, and Duke waves him off, the tips of a 'don't thank me' on his tongue -- and he wonders how many times he has to insist that for that to stick.

He is just about to leave the room when he hears Jowan call once more, and, curious, Duke returns to poke his head into the bathroom. Explain ... ?

"Explain the ... showers?" he repeats, somewhat mystified, but reminds himself that this was, after all, a world where everyone came from entirely different backgrounds -- and yet he wonders what kind of futile state Jowan hailed from to be confused by such common household items. Then again, he can never be too sure.

"Oh, sure," he says, stepping in, and still somewhat confused by the idea Jowan has never seen these items before. "This is ... a tap?" Duke shakes his head to correct himself, and his questioning tone. "You turn it on for water, see -- this one's hot, and this one's cold, but honestly I'd recommend hot water over anything. And that's the toilet, you just ... flush this once you're done. It makes swirly noises, kinda like ... pfpfpfpfpt." Duke attempts to recreate the noise of a toilet flushing, and fails with almost clear expertise -- slightly embarrassed, he realises all too late that he could have just ... flushed the toilet.

He does so now, pressing the button, and the water moves. "Like that," he states obviously.

Then, the showers. Duke hesitates, wondering -- then: "Here," he says, and lifts up one of the taps, "adjust the water as you see fit. Again, this one's hot, this one's cold. Once you feel like the water's done, you just pull this little knob here and the water will come out of the showerhead." He points to the item. "And ... uh, do you condition?"

Duke grabs the bottles sitting on the shower counter and squints at them. "This one's shampoo, it seems like almonds," he says absentmindedly, basically placing the item into Jowan's hands. "This is the conditioner, but you don't have to use it if you don't condition, but personally I think it helps hair a lot, right?" Duke laughs a bit. "It smells like mint," he says, and tosses it at Jowan. "Body wash, though if you prefer soap it's right here" -- again, two more items to the pile -- "and there's facewash and body scrub too, I think this one is made of pomegranate seeds? I don't know, I stole it from Nata." Once more, onto the pile. "Don't tell him that, by the way. He didn't need it; wasn't using it anyways. I'm pretty sure he just rubs soap onto those sticks he calls hair. Oh, here's the toner, I know you're technically not supposed to tone in the shower but I like just getting everything out of the way." Duke stacks the little bottle delicately on top of his masterpiece, and puts his hands on his hips. "Any questions?"

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The Nobody dashed out from behind Yusei, whirling past him and Stan into the room. So many interesting things lay beyond, and its curiosity was overflowing.

After looking about the room, its gaze passed over the poster, and then focused on the small electronic device on top of the dresser.

With unusual deliberation, it grabbed the game console and stared at it for a few moments, before abruptly turning to look at Stan.

"Where's it from?"

Mud People, Earth and Water

As soon as their new friend stopped making their mudpit, the Mud People blindly followed her into what could be a dangerous situation as she went to stop the fighting.

One of them stood beside her staring blankly into space, before tilting forward without warning and falling face-forward. The second went over to Illidan and waved a non-verbal hello, unafraid from its last encounter with him.

The last stayed by the water pool which was to become a mudpit, and was digging a hole in the ground nearby to plant some flowers.

Edited December 12, 2017 by Coryn02

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Hush guided the man to a few other locations, pointing out the mess that was made in each area. Yusei took mental note of each one, wondering just how much time Hush had spent on his own before finally being noticed. Along the way, the duelist found a scrap piece of paper and a pen. Using the wall as a surface, he scrawled out the details of the Dusk's request for help:

"Individual requesting assistance: Hush, the Dusk Nobody

Information: Limited. States that home is destroyed and is alone. Mentioned wanting to have his heart back. May want to find his brothers.

Suggested requirements: Personal knowledge about Nobodies and the universe they come from.

Mission: Reconnaissance first"

He stared at the paper scrap, knowing of possible consequences should he pin the request as written. Sora's words still collided with Hush's. The two accounts did not match up and Yusei was sorting out why.

The words... Glancing at Hush's back as the Nobody continued darting down the hallway, the duelist frowned slightly.

Organization XIII was a group of powerful Nobodies that commanded all others of lesser strength, others like Hush. Sora was trying to find out who the Organization was and what they wanted.

But Hush's leaders were dead, killed by Sora.

Tucking the pen behind his ear, Yusei plucked a pin from the cork board and stuck it through the sheet of paper, leaving it to hang against the light brown surface. He understood the situation. He was willing to take a risk. Looking towards Hush once more, he felt something twist in his chest. He hoped he was making the right decision....

Picking the box of items up from the ground and tucking it under his arm again, he stuffed his free hand into his pant pocket and began walking. This time, he led Hush down the hallways and up the flights of stairs until he came to the floor he wanted. Stan's bedroom was not far ahead from there. In moments, he was at the man's door, pulling his hand free from the pocket and rapping his knuckles against the surface.

Yusei waited patiently as the minutes began to tick by but Stan didn't leave him waiting for long. The brown-haired man was still in his soiled clothes, a shadow of exhaustion hiding in his features. "Oh, Yusei," came the greeting.

Shaking his head slightly, Yusei gave an apologetic smirk. "Sorry, Stan. I don't mean to bother you. I'm not here for more information," he started to explain. He knew he wasn't going on Stan's mission. Glancing over his shoulder as Stan's attention drifted to Hush, the duelist watched the Nobody quickly dart into the bedroom and begin to explore. "I suppose..." he replied, frowning now. "He asked for help so I put his request on the board. Hush is responsible for a number of messes in the castle today and we've already cleaned up one room. He's shown me the rest so we can return to them shortly. However, I wanted to bring some items to you from the first room - they looked like yours."

Holding the box out for Stan to see, Yusei flicked his gaze back to Hush as the Dusk questioned Stan about an item in his hands.

Sora | Roaming

He wasn't very happy, knowing that a Nobody was wandering around, but Sora had no choice except to leave it alone. A groan floated from his lips, annoyance sliding across his features as he lazily paced the hallways. Hands clasped behind his head and gaze tilted up towards the ceiling, he sighed. "Ma-a-an... Wish Goofy and Donald were here..." he muttered. The boy didn't really know what to do. There were no Heartless here and, with the exception of the one Dusk (didn't Yusei call it Hush?), there were no Nobodies either.

Traverse Town was really the only world he knew of that was mostly free of Heartless now, though some still lingered in the Second and Third Districts. But there were shops to resupply at least. Here? There wasn't a single Moogle in sight.

No fights, no supplies to shop for. He was bored and lost in a galaxy far, far away...

Voices drifted down the hallway and Sora brought his gaze down from the ceiling, looking ahead. "Oh, hey..." he breathed, recognizing the pair of girls from Twilight's Welcome Party. It looked like they were talking about something but then started to walk away. "H-Hey! Wait a sec!" he called out, picking up his pace to jog down the hall until he caught up to them. "I'm Sora!" he introduced, greeting the pair with a large, goofy grin as he waved.

One was noticeably older than the other, a woman and a girl around his age. Maybe. The woman didn't look too friendly. "Are either of you familiar with the place?" he asked.

Edited December 13, 2017 by ValidEmotions

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Yusei's new friend was an excitable one, moving around in an odd mix of skittering and floating. It was almost like they were immaterial, and perhaps they didn't quite understand the concept of personal space.

"That's--" Stan began in a panic, before he relaxed his shoulders and repeated in a calmer tone, "That's my gameboy. Bought it at a junk store on Ganymede. The keeper didn't know the value of the thing, being old Earth tech."

That was a lie. There were many people who collected antiques like he did, and he just happened to acquire a five finger discount after investigating the disappearance of said keeper. Other than the big stuff and the important stuff, it was likely that most of it was going to be recycled anyway. Vale told him to return it. He never did. He liked to blame the strict rules of society for his delinquency and his interest in history, though his conscience eventually caught up with him and he sent the equivalent value of the thing to the man's daughter three years later. She probably didn't even notice it was gone in the first place.

"Probably originated on Earth, America, around the 2000s. Looks familiar to you?" Stan asked. "It's loaded with Pokemon Yellow," he continued, "though I've been seeing if I could collect some other games through cross universe time loops. Needed a little work and a few replacements, but plays just like new! Old Earth had a bunch of cool stuff, buried under all that rubble, like replica cards resembling Yusei's."

It was a real shame that that place became so inhospitable. Some crazy people stayed in underground bunkers to wait for the dust to settle, eventually forming the Gaia Coalition hundreds of years later. But that the time, much of Humanity had fled to nearby terraformed planets and moons shortly before the impact of 2162. Life was hard for his ancestors when they established the colony on Mars, but Stan was glad he was born in a time of relative peace many decades after.

Yusei, unlike the creature who was named Hush, still stood at the doorway with a box of familiar items. He said that Hush submitted a request for aid, which Stan noted would be an exciting thing to look at when he had the chance. That was before he processed the words responsible for a number of messes and the man whirled around to glare at the Dusk, before slowly turning back around to face the duelist.

He had a suspicion now that the ghastly sock puppet had something to do with the ball bearings and the fire. The box was full of things he had laying around, but also of which he thought he had tucked away and organized. Cans of spray paint, marbles, vials of different powders... a second set of shoes.

"Where did you..." he inquired, choosing his words one at a time. "Find all this?"

Edited December 13, 2017 by TehUltimateMage

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To her delight, wolf-boy seemed very receptive to her reading. When Light looked up from the page, his face was alight with amazement, and he took the book out of his mouth as he stared at the words she had in her hands. From behind her, Spike loudly exhaled in relief. He seemed to think for a moment, then pointed to the word “space.”

“Dragon?” He asked. Where did he come from? He learns quickly, but he doesn’t seem to have much of a grasp on language, much less words.

”No,” Light shook her head, then pointed at the correct word. “Dragon.”

He then seemed to come to a realization of sorts, and held up the book in his hands. “Dragon?”

Light giggled, then shook her head. ”Book,” she said, tapping the one he was holding. She then pointed at Spike, who did a little wave. “Dragon.” She pointed at the word he was just looking at. “Space.” She set the book down, still open, and waved her arms around nebulously. Oh… But something abstract like that would be hard to explain to someone without words…. “Nevermind,” Light said as she shook her head. Should I really be doing this? Lightabsentmindedly picked the book talking about the dragons back up, putting it in her lap, before pointed at the book he held and Spike as she repeated what they were. “Book, dragon.” Am I explaining this to him at all? I’ve never taught anyone before--Lady Sharan help me!

Cistina ~ Gateway

One of the two arrivals approached the ogre jovially, much to Cistina’s chagrin. Is the boy insane?! And the ogre responded by throwing him away—there were large gashes in the boy’s face—Like hell I will let that stand! Before she was able to react, however, the woman strode in front of her and unleashed a mantle of flames.

Dark flames, corrupted with the energy of the Netherworld. She could feel the demonic heat, searing her even from this distance—Cistina flinched as the flames shot forward and she slid quickly backwards, the spell she was casting faded, and she could tell the flames were magical in nature because it felt as if she was standing next to a roaring bonfire and the demonic energy from it felt like needles—that sensation disappeared as Pascal’s summon came and inundated the area before disappearing herself."Now, it would be in everyone's best interest to put all your assumptions aside until we sort this all out."

Thank you, Pascal! The ogre looked cowed, and… The ogress… Looked abashed. So she too has power similar to that of the Netherworld… Pascal held her fusil-staff towards the woman, serious expression on her face. Cistina edged herself forward—I should not have flinched away, however reflexive that was. The fire would not have hit me—with her spear readied defensively. She willed a wind to whip up around her, surrounding her.

“Wow, Aya this is why you don’t have friends, always blasting fire first and talking second!”

What?

“You probably don’t have many friends either. You should be more like me! I have loads of friends… like Aya! She’s great, she has lovely hair,” The strange—and winged, now that she actually got a good look at him—boy spoke up again, this time to the cowed purple ogre… Or perhaps, the ogre-like being. Was…. Aya…. Cistina looked back at the pink-haired… Horned demon.

“It’s pink like yours! Though yours isn’t fully pink, it’s white, like snow!” The winged boy was talking excitedly to Pascal, with nary a fear in his tone. Cistina stared, befuddled.

“Hey the secret to keeping Aya from hurting people is to just dump a bucket of water on her! Or freeze her hands in a block of ice, I’ve done that before! Though she might try to gouge your eyes with her nails or horns, hahaha”

What? … I would not expect her to keep a friend like he…. Cistina frowned, looking between the two. This “Aya” didn’t seem too happy at what he “revealed” either.

"Keep talking and I'll attack you," she threatened. She then made an impressive leap to beside the purple creature. "A truce, then, and a handshake to seal the deal. I suppose you could say the feeling is mutual."

Interesting. Despite similarities, neither particularly seem to trust the other—that means they are not of one goal, at the very least…. I suppose I had been too hasty in my judgement. Cistina lowered Zephyros, though she kept the wind swirling about her.

“Pascal and I have some explanations to offer for your questions,” Cistina said carefully. ”More likely than not, we cannot answer all of them, particularly of any you have regarding the state of the location you came from.” Cistina tensed slightly, waiting for their reactions.

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Sweet Elune, does that kid ever shut up? He wasn't wrong that Illidan didn't have a lot of friends. Hell, not a lot of people even liked him, let alone wanted to be his friend. Sure, he had a following in the form of the Illidari he led into battle against the Burning Legion, but... they weren't his friends.

He was not a very likeable guy outside of his fellow demon hunters, either, and it wasn't just because of his stunning personality or his rather violent tendencies when annoyed.

People didn't like him simply because of what he was. A half-demon. A freak of nature. An abomination. A monster. But the biggest one was burned into his mind after having heard it so many times in ten thousand years' worth of time, unable to be forgotten:

Betrayer.

~

"The Light is your destiny..."

"MY DESTINY IS MY OWN!!!" He let loose his inner demon's might and attacked that damn windchime, shattering her into Elune-knew-how-many pieces...

...and invoking the ire of the High Exarch, Turalyon. Even now, the paladin rushed at the demon hunter with his sword.

"YOU'VE DOOMED US ALL, BETRAYER!!!"

As if it were nothing, Illidan had caught the sword with one hand, causing it to bleed his green half-demon blood. "Your faith has blinded you. There can be no 'Chosen One'. Only we can save ourselves."

~

"Keep talking and I'll attack you."

The demon girl's voice snapped Illidan out of his musings. She seemed to have gotten the cloud-boy to finally shut up. And then she jumped and landed. Right in front of Illidan. There was something odd about her, now that he thought about it; now that he'd gotten a closer (and better) look at her with his Spectral Sight, she wasn't like any demon he'd ever seen before. Even her aura was different from the hundreds of others he'd known as belonging to the Legion's freakshows.

He almost expected her to rake her nails across his face, as he'd done to the cloud-boy, but instead she extended her hand out.

"A truce, then, and a handshake to seal the deal. I suppose you could say the feeling is mutual."

Demons weren't usually so open to the thought of a truce, in his experience. Then again, demons didn't look and act like this, either (her way of dress was rather peculiar, even by Azeroth's standards). Illidan was wary at first, but then took the demon's hand in his and gave a firm shake. Holding hands makes everyone friendlier... Was that what that girl had said? Hibiki must be REALLY proud of herself, he thought sarcastically. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the mud-construct-thing waving at him.

Hibiki was the one to respond to the warrior-woman from earlier. "I'll keep that in mind, but there's something I need to bring up." She then turned to look at Illidan. "Um... Illidan-san?" Hibiki suddenly speaking caused Illidan to snap to attention and turn to face her in return. "I really hate to interrupt you and your new friend--"

"She's not my friend," he snapped.

His annoyed tone drew a slight wince from Hibiki, but she regained her composure just as quickly. "...anyway. Marie-san is gone!" It was true - in the midst of everything happening, Marie had managed to vanish. Not even Illidan's Spectral Sight could find her aura. "Um... maybe she just ran off?"

One could only hope...

[ A new place! - Marie ]

Marie knew she wasn't going to last long near that much water, so she'd opted to explore her new surroundings and had come to a beautiful castle. (Of course, she didn't know that it was a castle - she lived in the city, for Zapfish's sake.)

She approached the castle's gates, slowly but surely. Maybe there were more people inside. "Uh... hello?"

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What kind of mage? That question alone would have made some amount of sense, but the longer Keaton spoke the more confused Anders felt. ‘Dark mage’ was an archaic euphemism for blood mages and ‘witch’ was an uncommon insult for hedge mages, but it wasn’t gender specific. He’d never even heard of the rest of the terms that spewed from the ‘wolfskin’s’ mouth. Besides, no one would ever ask someone if they were a blood mage with the bright, excited tone that Keaton used.“...an apostate?” Hopefully that would appease him.

Oh, lovely, of course they couldn’t let him go back and wanted him to help them. No thanks. Helping well-meaning people with ‘missions’ hadn’t at all gone well the last two times. Squashing down the urge to say ‘of course I’ll help, what should I do first’ (thanks, Justice, but no), he continued to listen.

Well, that was more interesting. The confirmation that this ‘Pascal’ was a mage was nice, if completely unnecessary. Cistina, though- shaman? Was she like one of the Avvar mages? The question rose to his lips, but before he could ask-

A Qunari of some hit the ground, throwing twin green blades to the ground at the impact. His skin was purple, his horns were massive, and a pair of wings jutted out from his back. Not actually a Qunari, then. Nevertheless, Anders didn’t particularly want to be anywhere near the now-yelling winged man.

Once again ignoring the call of stay, help, he drew on the Fade and melted into the form of a sleek orange tabby. Ear twitching, he watched for a moment longer- Pascal seemed to be handling things fine- before picking a direction and darting off. There was enough chaos that no one would notice him leaving.

At least, he thought that no one would notice. The hulking shape behind him quickly proved him wrong. A bit too quickly- it was gaining on him, and Anders preferred to avoid being torn to pieces. It just wasn’t a good way to start one’s morning. He stopped running as quickly as he was able to (it turned out that cat movement and human movement didn’t translate into each other well) and shifted back into a blur of color. Staff in hand, he spun around on one heel to face his pursuer.

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Goddamn, everything hurt. The world spun nauseatingly around him, threatening his balance and causing him to sway. His hearing aids were going nuts. He had been chilling on the couch, nursing his wounds from a recent fight. His nose had broken (again), and a large bruise stretched across his face. A few butterfly bandages kept some deeper cuts closed across his body, but most his injuries were all wrapped up in gauze.

Oh, and he probably got a concussion. Probably definitely. Stupid AIM. Why'd they have to go and rob places for their tech? If they were as big and evil as they claimed, they'd made their OWN evil tech.

He'd only just finished patching himself up from their mission when the world seemed to fall out from under him. Clint hadn't even had time to change out of his Avengers uniform and was still in full-combat gear. An icepack in one hand and a beer in another, Clint struggled to keep a hold on both objects as he slipped into the void. When the ground finally felt solid beneath his feet, he staggered forward and crashed into...something. Just like that, he was on the ground and covered in....mud? That was mud. He didn't know what was worse: the fact he couldn't catch himself with his hands, or the fact he 10/10 re-broke his nose from landing face-first. The archer groaned, rolling over on his side to survey the situation.

People were talking, yelling maybe? It was hard to see with the mud in his face. Clint dragged the back of his beer-holding hand across his face, blinking. Nah, he couldn't tell a thing anyone was saying. "Sorry, sorry." He mumbled, sitting up. Now that he could see everyone...this was quite the scene. Two men, and a...demon? Whatever, he'd seen weirder. Worked with weirder. "I uh...hey? Sorry I made a mess. I can..." The world seemed to tilt at a violent angle, causing his stomach to flip. Clint grimaced as he squashed his nausea back down. Yup, definitely a concussion. And the blood running from his nose was never a good thing. Clint set his beer aside, moving to re-set his nose.

"Mmmmgonna need a minute."

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Lara turned around to notice a young teenager running towards them with a goofy smile on his face. Glad that the kid was not hostile, Lara allowed her expression to soften. She nodded and gae a gentle wave as greeting.

“Oh, hello. Yes, I was just showing… Um…” She looked at Evonna. “I apologize greatly, what is your name?”

“Evonna Durand." Lara smiled at her and nodded.

"Ah, yes, Evonna. C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer. (Pleasure to meet you.)" Evonna blinked in awe at the fact that Lara spoke to her in her native tongue. It filled her with a sense of pride being able to know what exactly she meant, though she refused to show it. Instead, Evonna smiled sheepishly.

"Toi aussi! (You too!)" Lara nodded and turned back to the boy.

"Right. Evonna and I were just going to the rooms. Would you care to follow us? I can find you a room- frankly, you can choose anything that isn't occupied." She made a polite gesture for him to follow them, allowing her body language to indicate that she was not intending on doing any harm. Not that this child seemed to think that, as he was just marching on up to them. Lara did suppose, however, that he assumed because he was in a base with a pony as the leader that he was safe. Though Lara knew at least one person here who was capable of doing harm... "We're going to my room first though, I have a couple of things to get... Including labels for the doors, probably." She shrugged and stopped at a door, taking out a key and opening it. "Now--- !" Lara blinked in awe at the state of her room. The pillows were all torn open, feathers thrown everywhere around the room. The covers were rumpled, as if someone threw themselves on her bed--- HER BED. Some of her dresses were taken out of the closet and thrown on the floor. The picture of her parents that usually sat at her bedside table was face down next to the ruined pillows. Lara felt her blood continue to boil as she stared at it. Who… Did this…?

Lara noticed that her bookshelf was knocked over, her books no longer neatly organized, but in a pile around the fallen shelf. That in itself was a fairly easy fix. The tea that she just bought that was spilled on the rug? That was more annoying, but she could always buy more. Cleaning it up would just be a quick vacuum. But the guns strewn across the carpet? The rounds of ammunition? Lara’s blood became scalding. This room was a pigsty and the had the audacity to mess with her guns?”Oh hell no.” Evonna looked into the room and cringed at its state.

Whoever did this was going to pay.

~Edward~

Ed quietly munched on his sweets, looking warily into the kitchen at the people that were in there. What kind of weird shenanigans… He had no idea what the big machine was, but he assumed that it wasn't too big of a deal. If it attacked, though… He shrugged and resumed munching.

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“An apostate?” Keaton frowned at the word, mouthing it silently to himself as he combed through his mind to see if he knew what the word meant. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that word before!” he exclaimed after a moment of thought. He gave the stranger a big toothy grin. “What kind of mage is that?” Unfortunately for Keaton, the gateway became chaotic within mere moments after his question as asked. For all intents and purposes, Keaton should have done more than just stare with wide eyes and more and more strange folk began seemingly materializing out of thin air before turning around and snarling at one another. He watched with interest as a purple man with horns (a dragon like Corrin maybe) tried to initiate a fight with a haughty girl. They were both calmed down by two girls soon after, but Keaton couldn’t help but feel excitement drum through him at the display of aggression between the two strangers. He was pumped to jump in, to get his paws dirty and roughhouse a bit before flopping down on the grass in exhaustion and maybe taking a nap. Keaton would have liked to think that the blur of motion that was a cat sprinting away from the gateway normally wouldn’t tempt him, but with all the commotion going around, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing a hand to the beaststone in his pocket.

A cloud of dark purple smoke engulfed Keaton’s body and faded away within seconds to reveal the Wolfskin’s much larger form. He fell to all fours and sprinted away from the crowd and towards the fleeing cat. Keaton could feel his heart drumming in his ears as he edged closer and closer towards the cat, his paws digging up grass and dirt as he ran towards the feline. Without warning, the cat spun around and shifted back into the man Keaton had just been speaking to a minute prior. Skidding to a halt, Keaton stopped a few inches away from Anders, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as his tail wagged.

“Oh wow!” Keaton said, his voice holding an echoing tone thanks to the telepathy the beaststone granted him. “You can shift too? Are you a kitsune?” Keaton moved his massive head an inch further to sniff Anders. He abruptly pulled his head back and sneezed, causing his head to shake violently. “You don’t smell like a kitsune. Oh, oh! When you said you were an apostate were you referring to your species? The only other shifters I’ve heard of are the laguz. Some of them can turn into cats, but they have cat ears and a tail.”

Xander - Kitchen

Xander couldn’t express his relief when Natsuki took the initiative. He stepped aside and let Natsuki strip the bones clean of meat as they began berating the malfunctioning robot. Despite being one of the first people to arrive and having time to adjust to the reality of the situation, Xander still had a hard time comprehending the fact that his world was significantly less advanced than the homeworlds of his fellow agents. He understood that he’d have to get used to some of the technological advancements from other worlds, but he still found himself dumbfounded when it came to machines which, thankfully, Natsuki seemed to know how to deal with.

While Fiddlesticks took the bones and began to slowly recuperate, Xander procured a plastic baggy and began storing the meat Natsuki had removed from the bones into the bags. Xander hated the idea of wasting perfectly good food especially considering how little meat they had. As he opened the fridge to store the meat away, Xander idly wondered if he should ask someone to pick up more meat while at the market. He wasn’t sure when they’d be doing a market run again, but it would be nice to fill up the fridges especially considering that it was beginning to look a little empty and they did just get a new batch of newcomers.

Thankfully, Fiddlesticks was functioning again once Xander put the meat away. Unfortunately, nothing that she said made any sense.

“What planet are you talking about?” Xander asked as he tried to scour his memory for such a planet. He figured that the “one-armed man” was Stan considering that every other agent had all their arms intact. Xander ran through the mission reports in his head but he couldn’t recall a single one of them mentioning a planet full of reptilian people. “None of the planets our organization has ventured to has been populated by reptilian people,” Xander said. “And no, we weren’t going to visit Duke. We were going to reunite you with the rest of the welcoming party so you could be properly informed of everything you need to know about us. We only made a detour to the kitchen because you needed… calcium.” Xander made a mental note to learn exactly what calcium was. If he was going to be of any use to his fellow agents, he needed to learn more about their worlds or, at the very least, what they needed to survive.

Edited December 16, 2017 by Doctortear

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Fushi's eyes follow her fingers as the red-haired girl points to the item in his hands, speaking clearly. Her voice is light and melodic to his ears, and her patience a kind, friendly reassurance in a sea of unknown faces. He stares down at the item she had briefly touched, a singular word repeating in his head. Book -- ?

"This ..." and here, he points to the book clearly. "Is book?" Then, with his amber-yellow eyes steadily following the trance of her fingertips through the air, he stares at Spike as if discovering the little purple dragon with a whole new mindset. "Is dragon?" he says, and points to Spike. The dragon's wave surprises Fushi a little, and he jolts back, eyes wide and blinking. Hesitantly, he raises his hand and waves back.

She then said another word, but it was impossible for Fushi to understand -- the girl waved her arms in the air for a splits second, before her face falls and she shakes her head. Disappointed, Fushi leans in closer, frowning as well -- the girl is lovely, and such a new friend, and he does not wish to see her upset. He does not know the cause of why she frowns, only that she is, and now she is shaking her head, and he wants to help --

But she raises her head one more, and she points to the item in his lap, and the little purple creature. He understands the words she says now, the two new discoveries he has made: book, and dragon.

He understands, and he has an idea -- Fushi wants to show her, his new friend, how much he has learnt in only a short amount of time; if he can prove his knowledge useful to her cause, then perhaps she would stay around, would not leave him as the Boy and as March has done.

So he takes the book in his hand and raises it up -- suddenly, quickly, and without a moment's hesitation -- bites into it, using the Boy's sharp teeth to tear the delicate, ancient leaf pages into shreds. Before the little purple d-r-a-g-o-n (dragon!) can recover from his evident shock, Fushi swallows.

Then, he holds out his hand and faces the girl with a determined expression. Evidently, he is quite confident in himself; his face is calm despite his earlier panic, and Fushi gazes down at his palm as he feels ancient magic stir within his blood. His hand begins to shift, with the fingers oddly bent and twisting in some otherworldly manner, but Fushi's expression remains neutral.

Seconds later, he gazes down, and the replication is complete. In his hand he holds a complete, identical copy of the book he had just bitten into, and he raises it up proudly to show the red-haired girl. The flower in her hair is purple against her bright locks, and he thinks it is pretty -- he has not seen many flowers of that colour before.

"Book," he repeats, and offers the item to her.

--

[ a fair agreement : ayaka -- ; ]

The purple-skinned being's hand in her own is cold yet firm, and Ayaka feels the strength of his muscles as he tightens his grip, just barely. The demon girl tilts her head curiously at the expression on his face -- not one of distaste, as she had expected, but rather one that was oddly ... wondering? He seems to be lost in thought, and with that Ayaka brushes a strand of pale pink hair from her shoulder as she takes her hand back, dragging her nails across his skin just barely.

The brown-haired girl next to the man seems to be speaking, and he returns with a short, curt assessment. Ayaka almost wants to laugh -- as if he needed to reassure anyone they were not allies. Perhaps that has been quite clear already through their earlier near-battle, but Ayaka has learnt through time and a test of her patience that humans can be ... unbearably slow.

That does not mean she dislikes them. Unlike her, they do not have centuries of knowledge, and she would rather live the life of a simpleton than be burdened by the past. A curious statement, and one Ayaka entirely applies to her life -- for she has seen too many of her own kind burdened by decades-old grudges.

She turns her head to the brown-haired woman -- light of voice and of step, but with a tremendous power behind her fingertips, and Ayaka wonders if she is truly human. She appears the part, but she has not seen any beings who can manipulate the winds so intensely.

"Well, then," she says, and is momentarily stopped by the arrival of a new person -- another human? -- however, upon seeing Yuki bounce off to the newcomer, his attention already diverted from their current situation, Ayaka shrugs her shoulders and turns back to the brown-haired human-priestess-deity.

"A question to start us all off," she says, "I don't care about the where as much as I do about the why -- so tell me, human, why exactly am I here?" She scans an eye across the field without moving her head, coldly assessing the situation. "If this is some sort of trap, then perhaps you've chosen the wrong target."

Her smile is sickeningly sweet and absolutely black against her words.

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The static Fiddlesticks's vision was still a thin veil, which for some reason had a blurry streak in the upper corner, but she could still discern Xander's stern voice and sincere expression. He wasn't mad at her, at least, but she didn't feel like this was any better."The planet the man came from,"she tried to explain, "with the Code Orange." Even saying that though, it would be weird for them to visit Zirhon and not see any Xinschi-uual. Then again, if they met the military they wouldn't know about them in the first place because of the mechs, and if Stan just came back there wouldn't be any records of them. That was a good thing; the less they knew, the less worried she was. She dismissed Xander's words, shaking her head at him in confidence. "They're there, I promise."

She then felt an initial wave of disappointment when the opportunity to meet Duke was denied. How was she going to finish his silly game by coming right up behind him and throwing a stab? Right know he probably thinks he won! She needed to do her "covert" attack! It was only fair for taunting her with indestructible walls, right?"No no no!" she objected quickly, getting up on her feet. "I'm fine now! I am! We can meet Duke. I can see." Realizing how eager she sounded, she flattened her ears and looked at the ground. "I mean... I would like to. Friends, right?" She swiped a retrieval arm across her face, then suddenly realized she wasn't holding the ball bearing anymore; it was on the floor. She must have dropped it while she was overheating. She quickly retrieved it, looking at the tiny orb. "Friends and pellets?"

---------------------------------

XDRS - Hallway

Typheus just flatly shook his head. He had never heard of a planet called Cybertron, but that explained why she was a Cybertronian. "Autobot" sounded like her model type, although so did "scout", and Optimus Prime must be her commander.
What are the odds of that? He ran into another soldier with capabilities he was familiar with. A mechanical one too, at that. He relaxed significantly, switching to his external speaker as she did."It's fine," he excused, taking note of how cordial she was. He tried to think of any reason why Fiddlesticks would be struggling with anything, but considering the lack of alarm in the scout's voice it must not have been serious. Still, finding her was a priority, and apparently the Luma was right in that they were no longer by the entrance. "So she was moved someplace else..." he mumbled to himself.
There was a slight shifting noise, and he looked back up at the scout in curiosity. She was looking around, sometimes focusing on different spots in the hall; looking at them himself though told him nothing. She then spoke up, saying, "Your companion is stationary, speaking with others. She wants to know the location of 'Duke'?"
He looked up in surprise. She must be like a Scout mech, able to equalize the microphone sensitivity to be able to distinguish more muffled sounds. He was wary of associating her too closely with his own kind though, lest he make a stupid assumption at a bad time. Onto more important matters, that was confirmation that Fiddlesticks still intended to attack the tattooed human, which changed his priorities a bit, and judging my the scout's questioning tone she didn't know anything about that.

"I know this sounds contradictory, but can you find Duke instead?" Typheus asked. "He's a small human, blonde, with a mark on his face." He refrained from describing his clothes, since he found out the hard way early on that humans change them all the time. "He sounds... hold on," he paused, searching through his own mind for an accurate memory. He couldn't play the footage for the Autobot, but he could at least play the audio through his speaker. Not that he was the most comfortable with the idea; so he chose a line that amused him:
"So now that that's done and over with," Duke's voice filtered through his speaker, "can we forget the whole 'who are you, I'm going to try and murder you' deal and work on the 'hey Duke, you're so wonderful and original with your ideas, can we be friends' issue?""If I know anything about my partner, we're going to want to get to him first," Typheus added once the audio finished. "It might not be pleasant."

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Hush listened contentedly to Stan's explanation, happy to know where this toy came from. That was the first word that came to mind for him; this would not be out of place among his other hobbies before the castle; coloring books, toy vehicles, stuffed animals. This room wasn't far off.

I remember these...

Predictably, the Nobody flinched when Stan glared at him, quickly sputtering out an apology under his gaze.

Mud People, Earth and Water

After meeting with the others and witnessing the near-occurrence of a fight, the Mud People gathered with the others once again. The one planting flowers had given up on that endeavor for the moment, muttering something about needing water. The one waving at Illidan was somewhat disappointed at being ignored but didn't give it a second thought.

What they did notice was the man who appeared out of nowhere, crushing the third who had fallen over.

A brief scream and a squelching noise heralded its crippling, with nothing but a pile of mud and a pair of closed eyes left.

The female who'd just been trying to plant flowers grabbed the man, and made an effort to pull him up, but with no mind to helping him keep his balance.

The male simply examined its fallen comrade more closely, before making a remark.

"Need dirt to fix you."

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After showing Jowan the controls in the shower -- and the wonders of fruit-based body scrubs -- Duke excuses himself to head downstairs. With the intention of fetching medical supplies, Duke makes his way slowly through the halls.

Shouldn't you be a little rushed? Vylcan, strangely, had been rather silent up until this moment, and the spirit's voice is a welcome distraction from Duke wondering exactly what items to fetch. Since the area around him is seemingly empty, Duke spares no expense in speaking out loud to his Witch.

"He's fine," he reassures, "taking a shower takes a while, and all that. Hey, did you know he didn't know what a shower was?"

Lots of people don't.

"In what country?" Duke rolls his eyes, having reached the staircase now. He halts slightly, a hand placed on the railing. "Don't answer that. Anyways, do you know what I'm supposed to grab?"

No.

"Thanks for your help, my lord," the blond returns sarcastically, and begins to head down the stairs. "It's fine -- I'll just bring him the whole first-aid box or something. I'm sure he'll find something in there worthwhile? If not, I suppose I can always ask around." The middle of the stairs down, and Duke pays no attention as he begin to head down the stairs. The heels of his boots click against the material of the stairs, and Duke hums to himself as he walks.

Could you try to make your entrance any less apparent? There is a clear tone of annoyance in Vylcan's voice, and Duke makes a point of stomping on the last step quite obnoxiously.

"I have no idea what you could possibly mean," he says innocently, now having reached the hallway.

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Whatever he had expected, it hadn’t been that. The creature in front of him was massive. It towered over him even with its slouched posture, and it was clearly several times his own weight. Its top-heavy shape was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Maker knew he’d faced enough blighted mon- ah, that was it. Those blighted blighted werewolves that had nearly torn his arms off. It wasn't an experience that he wanted to repeat.

More to the point, it was far too close. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, and it was difficult to think through the fear. For a moment he considered trying to freeze the beast, but he discarded that thought. The werewolf would be able to crush his head in its jaws before he could cast anything. It was for the same reason that he forced Justice to the back of his mind, despite the spirit’s best efforts to take control to deal with the threat. His eyes flashed blue and he tightened his grip on his staff, ready for-

It spoke. That was new. None of the werewolves he’d met had spoken, but according to Neria a different, non-blighted group of them had been able to speak. It didn’t really matter either way, because Neria wasn’t the type to forget details like “oh yeah, and they spoke in our minds.”. Anders was pretty sure that if he grit his teeth any harder one of them would crack, because he really wasn’t having a good day.

He flinched and tried to lean back when the werewolf (?) brought its head closer to him, but it didn’t deter the beast. Its sneeze would have been funny if Anders hadn’t been so confused and sure that he was inches away from being killed by a gigantic dog (of course it was a dog; the universe didn’t seem to get that he was a cat person).

“You don’t smell like a kitsune. Oh, oh! When you said you were an apostate were you referring to your species? The only other shifters I’ve heard of are the laguz. Some of them can turn into cats, but they have cat ears and a tail.”

Oh. No wonder the voice, echoed as it was, sounded familiar. Who else could manage to sound so excited while making no sense at all? (Don’t answer that, Justice, we’ve gone over rhetorical questions before.) Feeling slightly less concerned about his skull being crushed into tiny pieces, he took a step backward, if only to get away from Keaton’s breath. “No, that’s not what I meant! My species doesn’t have anything to do with it.” Keaton had to be from a different world if he hadn’t even heard the word ‘apostate’ before (as if the ears didn’t give it away). “An apostate is a mage that doesn’t submit to the rule of the Chantry,” he said after a short pause. He had been tempted to avoid giving Keaton more information than he had to, but the habit of explaining the evils of the Circles had won out.

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Steadily, Pascal lowered her weapon. The fight seemed to have ended before it began, thanks to her. She had tracked the horned-girl's movement, just in case, as she leaped through the air (she was an agile one!) and Pascal kept her eye on Ayaka even when her friend on the cloud had tried to throw off her aim by swinging in front of her.

Despite him getting in the way, Pascal appreciated the silver-haired man's -- Yuki's -- enthusiasm. The light-haired girl -- Hibiki -- who was accompanying the purple man was quite helpful too! Both of them seemed like they would be a great aid with managing the Gateway if they did chose to stay. How exciting! The tension in Pascal's body melted away, and she twirled her staff, sheathing into a holster on her back. Her smile had returned as if no scuffle had happened.

She didn't have time to answer the angel-winged person, though, before he zipped off again to greet a blond boy who just appeared and crushed one of the mud-people who were following her around.

Oh. On no. The other two mud people didn't seem too entirely fazed by their companion's untimely end, though, demanding instead in their primitive language for more dirt to repair it. Repair him? Did they even have or need genders? There was nothing more that Pascal could do since she lacked proficiency in earth magic. It seemed like another task for Xander to perform.

So, for now, she was content with answering the demon girl to pull her attention away from Cistina. Pascal held her hands out, palms out, in a welcoming gesture to everyone assembled at the Gateway. "Ayaka, right? Welcome to the Gateway to the Starry Skies!" she said, her mood jolly. "Me and Cistina are posted here as a lookouts for new people that get teleported here. And if you are here, it's likely that this Gateway probably saved you from getting tossed into some other world. The universe has been getting all loopy and stuff recently, and so we're part of an organization that works to patch things up!" She pointed to herself with her thumb, chest puffed out in pride when mentioning the X-tra Dimensional Squad. "I'm flattered that you thought this was a trap, but nope! It's just the universe finding you worthy of saving, or something."

She ended her explanation with a pout and a shrug, palms up.

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The demon girl-- no, Aya. He had to remember that now. Illidan briefly became lost in thought again; on Azeroth, at least, to know a demon's name was to control it. Then again, this name sounded more like a nickname and it was possible that things didn't work that way here, so he dropped the idea.

Aya had dragged her nails ever so slightly across Illidan's hand as she pulled back from the handshake, inciting a barely-audible, but nonetheless startled gasp. It wasn't enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to be felt. He looked around and saw that two others were gone, as well - one of the humans and that weird dog-human guy. Not to mention another recent arrival had made himself known. He looked rather injured and muddy - in fact, it looked like he'd landed on one of the mud constructs, killing it.

Rest in peace, mud person, Hibiki thought. Thank goodness the new guy was only human. Hibiki was thrilled at having someone else normal around these parts, but since he looked injured, she figured the hand-holding would have to wait until he recovered.

Illidan, meanwhile, looked annoyed. Cloud-boy - or Yuki, as he'd called himself - was yap-yap-yapping away once more... although this time, he managed to hear that this other demon, this "Aya" was ancient. Part of him wondered just how ancient - surely not more than 10,000 years like him? Yuki left them just as quickly, however, to check out the new guy, yapping away at him instead of Illidan, much to his relief. But then even the demon hunter was a little surprised.

The kid could shoot wind.

Of course, given the situation, it just smeared the blood from the guy's injuries all over his face. At least the mud was gone...

Then he heard Aya speak again, this time to the woman who had attempted to diffuse the situation before Pascal's intervention. He couldn't make out the words, but the tone was all too familiar; just like the demons of the Burning Legion, her tone was laced with venom. At least something was familiar.

Pascal was the one to answer her, though, and her explanation was less than pleasant. Although he remembered most of it from when he, Hibiki, and Marie had arrived, the thought of the universe itself finding him, of all people, worth saving struck a sour and confusing note with him, and he clutched his forehead with his hand, in-between his horns. All the talk of him being some sort of hero or something gave him a headache, but as he saw it, he was pretty much stuck here. This entire situation was going to take some getting used to, that much was for certain.

Hibiki, meanwhile, was curious. What if the Gateway hadn't snatched them up when it had? Would she have ended up in Illidan's world? Would he have ended up in hers? What about Marie and her world? So many possibilities; it couldn't have been that bad! Then again, if the Gateway had felt the need to save them... maybe it was that bad.

Illidan's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Lost in thought, there?"

"...a bit, yeah. ごめんなさい (Sorry)."

"...want to go find ink-cheeks before she gets into a bad situation?"

Hibiki simply nodded. Now that he mentioned it, she was worried about Marie. Hibiki bounded off to find her, with Illidan close behind.

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Aeolus noticed the castle in the distance after he had slunk some distance. After a bit of thought, the Espeon made for the castle. It was as good a place as any to start figuring this world out, right? Beside, Dark-types don't usually come through castles unless they're Sandile or Krokorok.

He approached the castle, eventually catching sight of... sometthing that... oh, didn't his trainer talk about something Splatoon with creatures like this? Uhh....

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After a long eye-opening conversation with Badu, Audrey still hadn't quite come to terms with this whole situation.

To think that so many worlds existed beyond our own... Well, it's probably still better than fighting monsters.

When they'd finished talking, she had requested time to think, and she took a walk around the planet. Not much to see, and it was always twilight, but at least it wasn't big enough that it took a while. Nothing like back home, where you'd never live long enough to cross all the way around on foot.

At the door into the castle, there were already two individuals. A humanoid creature, and then a smaller catlike one. Audrey was fond of cats, but she reminded herself that the Gateway summoned sapient creatures. Whatever they were, they should be treated as people.

Upon approaching, she noticed the human-looking one could pretty much pass for human- except for the hair, which were actually tentacles.

Jeez, it's like the Cove all over again. Let's just hope they want to be friendly.

Audrey waved, and then tried to strike up a conversation.

"Hey, are you both new around here too?"

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It took two seconds before she saw the strange pink cat. There was something familiar about it... Didn't it look like one of those Pokemon from the games she and Callie played? A shame they'd only gotten Red and Blue. That reminded her of that one Splatfest - Red VS Blue. Blue had won, obviously; Marie had even traded Callie a Vulpix she'd nicknamed "BLUEISBEST" just to rub the victory in her cousin's face. Remembering that made her sad, though - it was possible she might never see Callie again.

The cat-Pokemon was approaching her, looking almost wary. Considering the situation, she didn't blame... him? Her? It? Hard to guess--

"Hey, are you both new around here too?" Another human! And this one was speaking directly to her!

Marie nodded, quickly getting over her starstruck state; if some of the people at the Gateway had been any indication, then Inkopolis had just been one world of many. "Yeah, I just arrived. My name's Marie."

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Clint blinked at the flurry of movement, clearly both baffled and surprised. That cloud boy...was a mouthful. If not for the concussion, the boy's movement would have him seeing double. The archer staggered slightly, glad he was still sitting. Otherwise, all that movement would've made him fall. Clint wiped his face with the back of his hand, sighing loudly. He set both his beer and his icepack down and grimaced. "Hey, slow your roll. Just..hold on." He hesitated, before shoving both thumbs to either side of his nose. It set with a sickening crunch, one the archer had thankfully grown used to.

"Look, kid. You talk a mile a minute, I'm gonna need a-" He stopped once more at the sight of the people-shaped mud structures, his face falling. "Oh..." That must have been what he...landed on. He cleared his throat, blue eyes darting up to the excitable boy once again. "You talk too fast. My 'aids are on the fritz and I'm not even going to pretend I can read your lips." Honestly though! He had mud and blood and probably beer in his face, which obscured his vision, which made it near impossible to read the lips of a rambling child.

There were a lot of people here, and he was having some trouble getting his thoughts together. Clint looked about, having trouble focusing on one singular person. "Look, I dunno where I am. Perhaps somebody with a slower talking speed could explain to me exactly where and why I'm here?"

Dismas [Gateway]

"Oi. Leave the bloke alone." Another man, incredibly unfazed by his arrival into a strange land, pushed past the crowd to focus on the injured archer. A bow was old news, but cost-efficient. Lords and Ladies liked to use bowmen because they were cheap and effective. Dressed in heavy layers and with a scarf over his mouth, the stranger's voice was the only thing that identified him as male. He crouched, hefting the blond man and supporting his weight under one arm. Although Clint was a good few inches taller than him, the stranger didn't seem to have any issues keeping him upright. As soon as the archer was on his feet, he let go, moving to inspect the rest of the crowd. A hand hovered over the handle of his blade as he stalked through the people.

Too much chatting, too much casual talk. It was getting on his nerves. Dismas grimaced beneath his scarf as his dark eyes flickered from person to person. Armed, armed...All of them carried some sort of weapon. "So what is this?" He rose his voice to a shout, moving to get the attention of the crowd. "A militia? I want answers an' I'm sick o' waitin'."

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It still baffled Yusei, the possibilities of multiple universes, each containing the potential of mimicking something found in another world. Briefly, he wondered if he should ask Stan about the cards he had seen and if he had grabbed any by chance. But he decided against it. He didn’t know if Duel Monster cards from another universe would even be compatible with his disk, let alone his decks.

Stan’s attitude and body language changed abruptly at the news about Hush’s connection with the mess that sprinkled the castle rooms. “These are from one of the rooms on the first floor, in a hallway near the kitchen and dinning areas. Not from the room that looks like a fire was burning,” he explained. Setting the box down gently, Yusei stuffed his hands into his pant pockets.

His dark blue eyes drifted to Hush once more as he continued to frown. “I don’t think he meant any harm,” Yusei stated. “He acts very much like a child from what I’ve seen so far. Hush might not understand fully what’s happened and might not know how to respond to everything.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “While you’re away on your mission, Hush and I will continue cleaning the mess. Hopefully, we’ll have everything back in order before you and the others return. Good luck,” he offered.

“Hush, put the Gameboy back so we can go.”

Sora | Bedrooms

The older woman never introduced herself but at least he had a name for the girl. Evonna. When the pair started speaking a language he didn’t understand, Sora rubbed the back of his head, his smile fading only a fraction. He nodded at the woman’s invitation to follow them to find a bedroom.

He supposed it would be a good idea to find a place to rest for later.

“Ah, yeah! I’ll go!” he replied, slightly eager. He kept pace with the two ladies, hands clasped behind his head once more as he walked. The boy stayed silent, uncertain if either of the other two were talkative to any degree. Normally, Goofy found something to talk about.

The woman came to a stop before one of the doors, unlocking it with a key and starting to speak before suddenly cutting herself off. Gradually, her demeanor changed and Sora lowered his hands to his sides. Leaning closer, he snuck a glance around the doorframe and whistled. “Someone did a number here…” he murmured, wide-eyed.

Circuitraider | Search & Rescue

Typheus looked up at her suddenly. Was that shock or fear? Circuitraider was working to analyze the mech’s body language, how its singular optic changed as specific words were spoken or certain actions were taken. He started to ask her a question, providing a description for this ‘Duke’.

A human.

And then were was a recording playing through the speakers on Typheus’ body. Circuitraider focused on the human’s voice that filled the hallway, analyzing it and committing it to her memory. Duke spoke with odd words, phrases that she had no context for, but some of them were slightly concerning and the Autobot wondered how much Typheus was not sharing with her.

Nodding once, she replied, “Alright, I will locate the boy.”

For the second time, the wings on her helmet shifted, exposing the sensitive receptors. No voice belonging to Duke was in her range, even after the brief passage of time. She needed to scout out the place further, then.

Transforming back into vehicular mode, Circuitraider’s headlights flickered once before she turned herself around to start moving down the hallway. She made a point to drive in the opposite direction from Typheus’ companion.

As she rolled through the castle, she continuously listened for even a faint trace of the human’s voice.

”Does your companion not favor humans?” Circuitraider eventually questioned, wondering about the pressing need to find the boy that Typheus had. ”The Autobots, mostly under Optimus Prime’s command, are protecting the planet Earth and its humans from the aggressions of Megatron and his Decepticon army. Does she follow his tyrannical doctrine?” She felt she needed to ask, to begin sorting out how trustworthy the mechs were and if they meant harm for harm’s sake.

But if his companion did not like humans, why was it that the bronze mech stood calmly beside a pair of humans earlier?

Circuitraider wondered if she might be missing a few bit of intel. Perhaps the humans she’d seen were not humans after all, just as Stan was not exactly human. Would the bronze mech recognize that fact? Maybe the pair showed, in some way to Typheus’ companion, that they were not humans.

She puzzled over the situation, even questioning whether she should lead Typheus to Duke. If one did not like humans but the other did, then could the pair truly be partners? Circuitraider wanted to grunt at the idea, trying to liken the mechs to Prime and Megatron: it wouldn’t work out nicely.

The bot rolled to a stop. A voice started to filter through her receptors but it was too faint to properly analyze. She needed to keep moving, needed to get closer for a better signal.

She turned down a different hallway, leading Typheus on a slight detour so she could better understand the mech’s motifs before she inadvertently put a human in harm’s way.